


Repercussion

by TheonlyDan



Category: The Morning Show (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22402336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonlyDan/pseuds/TheonlyDan
Summary: The start of something always begun with destruction, but also with honesty, unity, and hope.Post-season finale.
Relationships: Bradley Jackson/Alex Levy
Comments: 17
Kudos: 43





	Repercussion

It took less than five minutes for America’s most successful morning TV to fall apart.

They didn’t talk to each other for the whole morning, but they’d never been closer. Closer than the time Alex took Bradley’s hand, leaning oh-so-close to her ear, the expansive perfume so disorienting like she was suddenly in a Lynch movie (which, Bradley admitted it had to be in a _good_ way because she loved his works), hissing _don’t fuck it up_ then dragged a very surprised (and weak-in-the-knees) brunet onto the teacup; closer than when Bradley held back Alex’s hair when she puked, all silky and strawberry-blond in her hands, and rubbed soothing circles on her back, thinking how fragile the ice-queen felt curling up against her laps; closer than the time Alex explained the breakdown and divorce by the shaky hotel door, eyes puffy, with the brunet chasing behind afterward in her fiery way just to say something in return, to tell her it was ok to because she was loved, to be rewarded with a wind-knocking, heartfelt, crushing hug by the toughest and most vulnerable woman Bradley had grown to like; closer than how absurdly domestic it turned out when Bradley went over to Alex’s place, figuring how to spin a broken marriage into something America would buy, but later all it turned into betrayal, heartbreak, and frustration, ending something that was supposed to be a promising start.

The start of something always begun with destruction.

_3:12 P.M._

All Bradley Jackson could see were faces. People she loved, liked, acquainted, despised, hated…images of them swarmed and attacked her mind’s eye ruthlessly whenever she closed her eyes. Not to mention the mic-distorted voice echoing persistently in her head, adding more stimulus to her impending migraine.

She noticed how her hands wouldn’t stop shaking as she pressed on the elevator button; as surreal as it all happened, one singular focus continued to stand out from all her incoherent thoughts: Alex Levy.

“I recommend the freight elevator, you know, the back-alley one. You aren’t seriously considering to go through the front door with all those ravenous reporters, right?”

Whirling around, she found Cory ready to meet her gaze, with his typical smile showing the perfect amount of teeth, his typical genteel posture and fucking-immaculate manners.

Bradley wanted to scream in his face, or slap him, or kick him in the balls just to wipe off that nonchalant smile off his face. He had nothing to lose. He had somewhere else to go after UBA sent all the staff on the show on furlough, basically firing them all because the company didn’t say when the fuck they could come back. Cory had the most fun in the game because he didn’t have a heart.

She knew she was transparent, knowing what she was thinking must have flashed by her face, intriguing the taller man just like old times. Bradley was suddenly glad she didn’t sleep with him, the kind of predator that was probably worse than Mitch.

“Thanks.”

She said coolly, and walked passed the ex-news operations of TMS.

“Don’t be so cold, Braddie.”

She stopped, seriously considering that if he walked up next to her, and then touch her or to offer some bullshit condolences or _anything_ , she would really have that meltdown she was entitled to.

But he merely raised his voice from behind.

“I just saw Alex went through the back, so you should also be safe. Remember what I said. Be patient. We’re onto something big here and if you wait for it, it’s definitely going to be more than co-hosting.”

The smug and confidence were too much. She turned around, a little preoccupied because she might be able to catch up with Alex if she started to sprint right now; quietly but no less hateful, she said:

“Fuck you.”

Then she did sprint, leaving the handsome man staring at her back with a pleased smirk.

_3:20 P.M._

“Alex, wait!”

But the blond didn’t hear her, or she pretended not to as she dove elegantly into her car. Bradley felt extra stupid and small, watching the inched-heel disappear into the door in slow motion as she ran down the stairs, flustered, wanting something so desperately that she was out of breath. Maybe she was hoping Alex could give her some answers.

She went to her hotel, alone.

_4:45 P.M._

Alex Levy fell asleep in the fucking bathtub, a luxury she deserved and was long over-due. She woke up freezing and stiff, but didn’t feel like showering again. She dried herself, still shivering, and got into something extremely comfortable, then went to the liquor cabinet.

She downed the vodka and woke herself from auto-piloting. Closing her eyes, the fatigue and confusion coming back as a trail of burning sensation in her throat, and the tears escaping from her eyes. Mostly because she finished a stiff one in one gulp, though. She knew she was too numb to cry.

What she’d _decided_ to happen today felt like the right thing to do, and she hadn’t done something like it in a very, _very_ long time. However, what followed immediately felt so wrong and confusing, but also unsurprising.

The instant decision from the upper floor was no surprise. The chaotic calls, texts, emails weren’t a surprise. The emergent announcements that left them angry and sad, with no room for negotiation, didn’t feel like a surprise.

She could provide excuses for every one of her negativities: it felt wrong because the event was un-fucking-precedented so she was in a state of shock and panic. It felt unsurprising because Alex had always been a good multitasker: when she was outing the predator and its henchman on live television, her head was already working a hundred miles per hour for the worst scenarios. And the finale was close enough to how she imagined.

It felt confusing, because of Bradley Jackson.

Bradley had no right to crash into her life, making her orbit some impulsive field reporter; she deserved things she wanted. Alex Levy didn’t deserve fucking _compromises_.

It wasn’t fair for her, nor was it for the brunet. To be honest, Alex had her at that coal video already—she hated Bradley because she saw her as the exact opposite. Career-wise, Alex had known for a fact, when choices were presented to Bradley, she would always make the decisions that Alex would not.

She hated her not because she despised her. She hated Bradley for that grudging respect, every time the shorter woman got under her skin. It wasn’t fair for Bradley to be her pawn, nor was it fair for Alex to be playing a game, ill-equipped just because she was a woman. It wasn’t fair for Chip, for Hannah, for Mia, for everyone who still had a heart.

So it was all very confusing. After Alex did the right thing, she was still alone. Nothing changed.

What did she want then, all this time? When did she start to feel so empty?

She rebooted and unplugged her phone from the charger, set her jaw after seeing the only name she wanted to see from a million others, and called.

“Alex. I called—”

“I was asleep.” Voice rough from disuse, she cleared her throat and tried again. “Is this a convenient time—”

“Fuck! Are you fucking kidding me!” Bradley barked into the phone, and Alex felt strangely comforted. “After what we’ve been through? Jesus…listen, I’m downstairs in your building and those fuckers won’t even call—”

“It’s because I told them to. For the reporters.” A brief pause. “You wanna come up?”

“Uh-huh!” Incredulous, Bradley told herself to calm down, but couldn’t help but added, “Now what? Do I have to say a magical password or fuck someone so I can—”

“I’ll call guards.”

The line went dead. Bradley almost regretted being mean to someone who’s universe had just crumbled. Alex was quite pathetic, and Bradley felt sorry for her more than she felt sorry for herself. For Alex being what she was, a woman who had everything that meant nothing, who represented everything Bradley swore she wouldn’t turn into, who had everything the brunet was chasing after.

She hated herself for being so human whenever Alex was around, and she knew Alex hated her for that sympathy.

Alex hated to be weak.

_5:06 P.M._

She opened the door wordlessly and Bradley let herself in.

“Can I use your bathroom? Fuck, they wouldn’t even let me use their toilet so I have to hold it like, an hour.”

“An hour?” Alex frowned and turned around, staring at the brunet’s silhouette vanishing into the bathroom. “When did you start to wait for me?”

“Let me think…” Her voice was muffled through the door, “Listen, you may see me as some down to earth mouthy country-girl but I still need some privacy. I really don’t want you to hear me peeing, ok?”

Alex winced and walked away. After a few minutes, Bradley’s voice erupted again.

“I was downstairs maybe forty minutes ago. I didn’t know what to do and, frankly, what to think, so after I walked back to the hotel—”

“You _walked_ back?”

“Yeah. To clear my head.”

“Well, did it work?”

Bradley sent her a cool, knowing stare. Alex sighed and took out an extra tumbler.

_5:36 P.M._

It had been exactly twenty-five minutes of silence after they settled themselves on the sofa in a measured distance. Alex, makeup-free in her sweatpants and sweater; Bradley, makeup ridiculous intact, blazer and heels discarded nearby, in her navy-blue shirt and maroon-slacks. It was fascinating, how they’d learned to enjoy each other’s company in such a short time, because they’d never been alone like this.

They had never been those who were safe with their own thoughts, though they needed agenda-less companionships like fish to water. More often than not, they were too proud to ask for any, or simply knowing the other party would want something in return.

Then someone’s stomach growled.

“Must be all the walking, eh?”

Alex reeled herself back to reality, and shot a shark-like smirk at the brunet’s direction. She was stunned by the bashfulness she found on Bradley, the coloration of pink visible on her cheeks, under the makeup. Alex had the yellowy light in her living room to thank; it cast a milky, smooth glow on the brunet’s face, softening her prominent features, and created a Bradley who was unrecognizable to Alex. Alex was enchanted.

She had never anticipated— _dreamed_ that she was capable of eliciting something close to shyness out of Bradley Jackson.

“I bet it was waiting for sleeping beauty.”

“Then why was Aurora saving the prince from the evil security?”

Alex muttered as she reached for her phone. Amused, Bradley watched the brows knit, a few lines hardening around the eyes and mouth, all for the bombarding messages. Alex sighed as she scrolled lazily.

“Saves the trouble of kissing.”

She had no idea where that came from, nor did Alex. She paused, and gave Bradley a quick, indecipherable side-glance, professional like they were on set. At least it took her attention off of something unpleasant.

“I’ll order takeout.”

_5:48 P.M._

“So, what’s next for you?”

Taking dainty bites of her food, she watched as Bradley shoved a spoon of rice into her mouth, giving an orgasmic groan.

Alex swallowed.

“Gotta go home for a few days. Then, I don’t know, I’ll figure something out.”

“How about Cory’s offer?”

“Fuck that. Fuck him.” She chewed vehemently as Alex waited patiently for further elaboration. She was looking forward to what the brunet had to say about the glib. “Why does he care? No, you know what? He doesn’t fucking care, and I was stupid enough to think he was a friend. Turns out, he was doing everything for himself. He was having a time of his fucked-up life manipulating all of it. That fucking psycho.”

“You do know, when this shit-show blows over he will be the only one who wins, right?”

“Yep.” Bradley bored her gaze into hers, and Alex almost shivered when it felt so penetrating and fiery. “So what? I don’t need to be so…so sick and twisted. I don’t need to stoop to his level or…or side with him. I don’t need to change into _that_ to be a winner. I’m perfectly fine with—”

“With being manipulated?”

Bradley’s brows shot up, but didn’t seem angry. Alex watched as she unhurriedly took a sip of her wine (Bradley proposed a change of flavor in liquor when the takeout arrived), something forming in her eyes.

“How about you? What’s the next big move for Alex Levy?”

Unaffected, Alex took another bite of the chicken under the intense gaze.

“Well, I won’t have to announce my own fucking divorce on national television, that’s for sure. I can at least cross that one out.” Alex gave a bitter laugh, and Bradley stiffened, seeing a distant fog cloaking those steely-blues. Alex carried on, tired and a little cynical. “Other than that, I honestly don’t have a clue. Maybe start apologizing, make amends and changes within my reach. Talk with my lawyers. Spend more time with a daughter who hates me…need to work on that mother-daughter relationship to show I’ve really cared—”

“Of course you do.” Bradley snapped. “Stop acting like, what, you’ve been wronging everyone in your fucked-up universe. Not everything is about you.”

“You have no right to say that.”

“Am I wrong?”

The Chinese on the table were momentarily forgotten. The charged moment stretched as the brunet stared at the blond with a defiant look, expectant, her stormy eyes pulling Alex and repelling her at the same time, until Alex was staring at herself like a soul out of a shell.

Then the blond avoided her gaze, pensive. Bradley blinked, and timidly resumed eating because _fuck_ , she hadn’t eaten all day.

“You’re probably right.”

The brunet jerked her head up like a deer caught in the headlights. Since the start of the today, Alex had been constantly breaking character, from yelling and admitting to a bystander that she was the ultimate form of emptiness, to having a nervous breakdown in front of the camera, to coming to her senses, and had Bradley be her partner in crime for the grand exposé.

And if there was one thing Bradley would admit, was that she was bad at reacting to people’s tenderness.

Or maybe that panic was reserved only for Alex Levy.

Those overwhelming moments made her admit things like, _sometimes partners hold hands_ , or _you’re actually pretty lovable when you’re not acting like a wet cat._ Bradley didn’t know what else she’d say if the night continued to progress. But she’d already decided she liked this side of Alex.

She cleared her throat, squirmed and said dumbly, “Well, I think um, what you did today was incredibly brave.”

“You think?” Alex chortled, and Bradley was irritated again by the haughtiness in Alex’s tone. “Just because I did one right thing, doesn’t wipe the slate clean. A woman died. Others were being assaulted. What I did—”

“Was admirable! Jesus, Alex, wake up! You did the right thing while I was still reporting some fucking _ship_ like someone will give a shit! And if you still remember, which I know you do because that’s just a fucked-up move for a fucked-up asshole I am, I was going to bail out like a coward! I was busy hiding away when a woman was dead because of me and she was going to die in vain with the truth because I wasn’t going to fucking speak up!”

Alex looked startled as she should be. Throat uncomfortably tight with the confession still ringing in her ears, Bradley felt something hot and moist on her face.

“So, what I’m saying is,” Embarrassed, Bradley aggressively wiped the tears away and averted her gaze, her voice cracking after the outburst. “Own it. You did good.”

“Hannah’s death isn’t yours to carry alone, Bradley.”

Alex said thickly as she shifted closer to Bradley, seemingly unaware of the motion. “It’s mine. It’s Mitch and Fred’s. It’s everybody’s. And fuck!” Alex hissed fervently that made Bradley jolt in her seat. “Fuck Mitch, and fuck that stupid…disgusting chauvinist pig Fred! Uh!” Bradley watched in awe, as Alex collapsed then buried her face in her palms, then after a beat, _sniffled_. “I’m most certain that crying is contagious.”

The corner of Bradley’s mouth tugged, and as a small grin broke from her face, she already went through a hundred debates about whether she should get closer to comfort the blond.

Before she could react, Alex had recovered and swiftly took a generous amount of tissues from the table.

“Beware of the Jackson disease.” Bradley took a sip of her drink, and methodically continued as Alex blew her nose. “Seriously, everything about me is deadly infectious. Just a few days after watching that coal-mine video, look at you now. Now you’re able to go ballistic and throw curses at some random guy on the street and expose sexual misconducts on one of the biggest fucking TV shows.” Alex stared at her, eyes still red but now gleaming with what Bradley hoped was laughter. “Be very careful. Maybe you’ll want to go brunet when you wake up and learn a southern accent.”

Alex giggled. _Truly_ giggled. The kind that was not out of courtesy, the kind that was exhausted but no less affectionate, the kind that Bradley almost regretted to not have heard more.

“Oh, god.” Alex exhaled with her shoulders less frigid. “I’ll admit, that accent of yours is quite cute, though.”

“Really?”

Bradley quirked her brows and smirked. For some reason, Alex seemed to falter a little as she met the brunet’s gaze.

“Now don’t push it. Or I’m going to say that it’s the wine talking. No follow-up questions.”

Alex finished her drink and paused, feeling the weight of Bradley’s gaze as she decided to pour herself another one.

“Thanks, I think.”

“Wow, you really don’t do well with compliments, don’t you?”

Bradley’s face was tinted pink again, soft and shy and was dangerously endearing to Alex. But it was not like she had _romantic_ ideas for a woman who was a living-breathing ticking tomb. She just thought she was adorable, in that instant. That was it.

“Shut up.” Bradley muttered. “I’m never a good actress.”

“Is that why you’re leaving this morning?” Alex stared sharply into her eyes. “Because you don’t like to pretend?”

Bradley set her jaw.

“Make no mistake, I genuinely think you have— _had_ , a prestigious and admirable and extremely impressive job as a co-anchor. It’s just…it’s not what I wanted. It’s turning me into someone I hate.”

“I don’t think you get it.”

Bradley froze at Alex’s icy tone.

“I don’t believe you truly understand, that the closer you think you’re getting to the truth, you’re actually getting closer to your _own_ truth. My job is to be responsible for that fairness, and believe it or not, I’m just as exhausted as you are, on the road of chasing that.”

“And what truth is _that_ , huh? It’s all just shoving fucking comfort food in the mouth of this fucked up country! You’re selling something that’s not real! People deserve to know that they’re not in Kansas anymore! That they’re fucked up, America is fucked up, and the world is fucked up! We need to know the truth!”

“Then there is no truth, Bradley Jackson.”

Bradley was forced to calm down after how eerily calm Alex sounded after she had literally screamed in her face. In the discourse, they’d somehow shortened the gap, like they were drawn to the lethal differences between them.

Face grim, Alex continued at a measured pace.

“There is no truth because when we process it in our head, it’s already _biased_. You chose what you want to tell, and I chose what America wanted to hear for the past fifteen years. Tell me: which one is fairer?”

Bradley was furious and astonished at the same time, partly because she knew after she thinks about what Alex said, she would be right.

And it did. Bradley had to give it to her because Alex had a point. The way they saw the truth and interpreted things differently, was because they’d been following different codes all their lives, was because they were _different_.

Alex was reading a lot from the brunet: anger, frustration, tiredness, realization, and silent (albeit begrudged) acknowledgments, as Bradley stared into the void, brows knitted and fists clenched. Not wanting to add more explosives, Alex nursed her wine, granting her thoughts free reign.

She was lucky to have a rival like Bradley, whom she understood as an opponent, and bear deep gratitude for as a person. Not to mention the admiration, and that _confusion_ Alex couldn’t quite grasp.

“I’m sorry that I yelled…but I’m not going to apologize, for not going along with your value system when it comes to hosting show.”

Alex pursed her lips, with a look on her face that was not angry, but intense. After Alex gave a terse nod, Bradley continued.

“But I do want you to know, you may think I don’t really understand what you do, and maybe I’m really too arrogant to truly get that…truth or no truth aside, you’re still an extraordinary woman, and I admire you very much.”

Alex searched her eyes and let her gaze sweep over her features, finding nothing but honesty and genuineness, and how beautiful Bradley Jackson actually was, the first time Alex ever saw her as a human being without façade. The brunet looked back unwaveringly, almost innocent, believing in every word she’d just said.

Alex would be the biggest fool if she pushed her away after all of the things that they’d been through together.

“Thank you.”

Bradley almost can’t believe that she made Alex smile. The smile on the blonde’s face was authentic and disarming, private as if it was saved especially for people Alex really cared about, the kind not yet to make her eyes crinkle, but soft enough to make the air easier to breathe.

After letting go of a breath she didn't know she was holding, Bradley smiled along.

“I really hope it isn’t because I complimented your accent and now you feel like you’re obliged to give me a little credit.”

“Maybe.”

Bradley shrugged. They shared a smirk, then avoided each other’s gaze at the same time to take a sip of their drinks. Bradley also hoped this wasn’t a two-steps-forward-one-step-back situation; every time they went cozy with one another, something would knock them off their course. But they seemed to find their ways back always.

They shared minutes of comfortable silence until Alex huffed, as if she had some unresolved troubles.

“You know, I’m not saying that you don’t understand what I do... _did_.” Alex grimaced and Bradley recoiled. Both of them were having difficulty with the change of their position. “Compared to other oblivious bozos, you read the job descriptions, you’d done it yourself, and you do have the empathy to relate, to get what I mean most of the time. And I’m not lying, but, I really appreciate it. Your human side. It made everything easier at that last moment, when you helped, and we carried out the right narrative without the wrong interference. At least, _most_ of the narrative, since we got cut at the ending.”

Alex didn’t want to babble, nor did she want the moment to get so wound-up. It was not distressing but no less heavy; a different kind of tension appeared in the air, and it forced them to dance on the wires again.

“Well,” Bradley’s overly-perfect pronunciation of the word revealed her nervousness. It was happening again, the testing-the-waters thing. “It was the right move. I mean, it was why I got the job in the first place, right? Because I got that human side…whatever that means, and I’m not afraid to go off the track. I’m amazed that I hadn’t dropped a single f-bomb on the show.”

“Knock on wood.”

Alex gave her a small smirk, and Bradley made a face.

“Maybe…maybe sometime in the future, when I get to your level, my vision would expand or something, and I’ll get the essence of your job. I don’t know, everything is possible.”

“Oh honey, you wouldn’t want that.”

She froze a little when she heard the nickname slipping off Alex’s tongue. Never in a million years did she anticipate that. Bradley snapped her gaze back to Alex, and found those blue eyes unfathomable and too absorbing for Bradley’s own good. Alex’s posture was laid-back, the most relaxed she had ever seen, with a gentle smile and frustration painting her face. “I know how condescending it will sound, but, thank you for saying that.”

Bradley frowned, more intrigued than irritated. She waited for Alex to finish.

“It came from the bottom of my heart this morning, on the street, when I go _woo-hoo_ , and I know you know, that it was all true. Empty. I feel empty. Doing what I do makes me so empty and alone.” Alex slouched as if the strength had been taken away. Bradley’s brows shot up and she shifted closer. “It’s exhausting. To carry all that on your shoulder and tell yourself that you’re doing something for a greater good, with no one that understands what you do, with everyone who wants something from you… all of it is life-consuming. I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t know if it’s worth it. I keep questioning myself: what if you’re wrong all along? What if it was all just a fucking goose-chase?”

The tiredness and sadness were so translucent in Alex’s eyes, that it carved another ten years on her face. Mouth curling downwards, her features were suddenly gaunt, as if her lack of sleep decided to come back and collect its debt, with all the demons she hid because she was never safe to let down her guards.

Bradley had never seen Alex this vulnerable.

“So, I don’t want you to reach where I am, because it’s hollow.”

Her voice fractured as she finished up the sentence, and Bradley couldn’t take it anymore. She maneuvered until she could feel the heat radiating from the blond, their thighs touching, and she reached out a hand tentatively to Alex.

Alex didn’t look at her as she continued to stare ahead, poignant and statuesque, but nor did she flinch upon a warm hand covering her own, the gesture smooth yet unexpectedly comforting. Bradley gave her hand a light squeeze.

“I doubt that I would ever get to accomplish what you did, Alex. Besides, I don’t think I will make those decisions as you do.” She whispered, imploringly, as if she wanted Alex to feel better this instant. “We are very different, literally the opposite. Although people do change, I don’t think I will go down that road after all this. But guess what? I’m also alone; I feel empty sometimes, staring myself in the mirror after a day working over nothing. It’s only human to be a little lost from time to time. Humanity is disgusting and disappointing, and way too complex, but it’s also beautiful and hopeful, right?”

Alex didn’t answer. She only exhaled, slow and steady, wiping off a silent tear from her cheek. Bradley thought, that maybe they weren’t so different.

She let go of her hand, but Alex turned around abruptly, and kept her hand in place. Bradley was struck by their proximity, and the way that Alex smelled so different without her perfume, just lotion that was floral-scented, hypotonic.

“You’re leaving?”

Seeing the anxiety and fear in those eyes, so blue that they were almost emerald-gray, Bradley opened her mouth and closed them several times. She had no heart to say anything cruel, not when Alex was like this.

“Yeah, maybe. I haven’t decided because I don’t know what’s gonna happen. But if you want me to stay and, then…” Now was definitely not the time to get flustered, but Bradley still did. Alex was looking at her like she was the most important thing in the world. She was looking at her with hope. That made Bradley’s heart heavy and afloat at the same time. She carried on after a gulp, “…I’m happy to help.”

“Oh, thank you.” Alex released her hand and gathered Bradley into a tight hug, except this time there were no smoky-wind or rampant-fire and the background, and everything felt so intimate that they couldn’t breathe. “Thank you. You have no idea how relieved I am.”

Bradley put her arms around Alex’s waist, and let herself relax in the embrace.

“Remember, you can tell me everything, ok?” She murmured next to her ears, “We’ve been through too much and it’ll be a fucking shame if we aren’t friends.”

“Don’t be silly.” Alex laughed shakily, her voice rich and low, and Bradley shivered at that. “We are friends.”

“Ok.”

Bradley said with a grin. They detangled from the embrace, and she shifted until there was a safe gap between she and Alex.

She raised her head, wanting to sneak a glance at the blond, and found Alex’s gaze already trained on her, with an amused yet thoughtful expression.

“Not a big fan of hugging?” Seeing the blank look on Bradley’s face, Alex rested her head on her hand, leaning on the back of the sofa as support. “You’re blushing.”

“I um…”

Blushing harder, Bradley stammered as Alex smiled—not the shark-like ones she had in store for her enemies, or the tight and uneasy one for P.R. In fact, it was the kind of smile that Bradley could see sparkles in her eyes, the kind that made her feel connected and special.

The particular kind of smile that stirred things in Bradley’s stomach.

“I guess I’m just not used to um, you being so…”

“Human?” Alex made a face and shrugged. “Ok, that’s…fair.”

“I mean, you are human. And I do understand why you can’t show that side because, well, you were surrounded by bad people and back-stabbers...” Trailing away, Bradley stared at her laps. Alex instantly knew where that reaction was coming from. “I’m sorry for everything, especially that I was a part of the coup.”

“C’mon that wasn’t your fault.” Alex laughed dryly, but her eyes were tender. “I already said I deserved to be overthrown…and you know what?”

Alex straightened herself with an earnest expression, and shifted until they were close again, their faces merely inches apart.

“After I rethink the whole thing, I realized, you didn’t have to consult me about interviewing Mitch in the first place. You didn’t have to tell me anything, and it was only fair because I didn’t tell you anything about making you the co-host either! I just went forward like a selfish prick, and I expected you to do everything I said after what I did? _Wow_.”

Alex took a breath and closed her eyes briefly, while Bradley stared at her with mouth agape.

When she opened her eyes, Bradley held her breath as she sank, deeper and deeper in the sea of blues.

“I need to _thank_ you instead. Thank you for trying to blow me up because, for that blow, you knocked me awake to see I’m just a…a fucking skeleton, operating for an empty cause every day. What I had been doing was totally against my principles. You remind me of…of why I was doing this in the first place. Why I wanted to be in the business.”

Bradley took a slow, deep inhalation, breathing in the air that was mixed with Alex’s wined-breath and her fragrance, feeling dizzy and elated and tongue-tied all at once. She knew Alex was telling the truth. Alex was looking at her with a dawning realization, and a desperate look in her eyes as if she was afraid of Bradley’s silence.

“You’re welcome.” She emphasized each word with cautiousness, and gulps. “When I was little, my father always said: An honest start is halfway to success. Although I know he wasn’t a very keen believer because he was too weak to do what’s good for his family…that sentence has stuck with me all my life, and it’s done me good when I didn’t know what to do.”

“An honest start is halfway to success.” Alex had her eyes locked with Bradley, engrossed as she repeated the sentence with seriousness. Then she nodded in deliberated pace. “Yeah. I think it makes sense.”

“There you go.”

They shared a smile, brief but sweet. Bradley’s pulse quickened as they continued to stare at each other. She could tell that Alex was preoccupied with a different kind of idea now; her expression showed a different kind of puzzlement, reminding Bradley what it’d look like when human beings saw fire for the first time, fascinated and scared.

Bradley bit her bottom lip and opened her mouth, but no word came out when she caught Alex’s gaze flickering down, too quick but obvious enough to take all of Bradley’s breath away.

Alex cocked her head as she took in Bradley’s pupils-dilated eyes, slightly parted lips, and flushed-cheeks. She didn’t know what to think of this, and she had no better judgments to go against, because it all felt so natural when she leaned forward to press a kiss on the brunet’s lips.

As soon as it happened, Bradley’s breath got caught in her throat because Alex’s lips were softer than she could imagine, and it was in this second that Bradley realized: she _had_ thought about this before—kissing Alex Levy.

She slowly reciprocated and moved against her, then felt a hand softly tugging a strand of hair behind her ear; before she knew it, Alex was cupping her cheeks.

The kiss was short, but their breaths were still labored when they broke apart, with Alex’s hands resting gently on her face.

She was looking at Bradley with a tiny smile and Bradley swore Alex’s eyes were twinkling. She smiled weakly at the blond, a little relieved and unsure.

“This is for my honest start.” She whispered as she caressed Bradley’s jawline, with vulnerability all over her actions, and Bradley was almost certain, that Alex wouldn’t be hating her anytime soon. “How about you?”

The start of something always begun with destruction, but also with honesty, unity, and hope.

It took less than five seconds for Bradley to went forward and capture Alex’s lips.

**Author's Note:**

> My god...can I just say the cast on TMS is incredible; the dynamics they created were breathtaking and so real. I feel like they've chosen to let a story tell itself instead of telling a story to entertain the audience.
> 
> I wish for more scenes with Reese and Jen though. But this show is already perfect!  
> Thank you for reading this! Kudos, comments, and suggestions are welcomed!


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